


i love everything you've got, boy (would you be mine?)

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dallon is lowkey fucking brendon, gay bars, thats literally it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“you wanna come inside? my roommate’s out for the night.”<br/>there’s a suggestive undertone in his voice, josh can tell, coupled further by the flutter of long, thick eyelashes over cheeks dusted pink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i love everything you've got, boy (would you be mine?)

**Author's Note:**

> (title - garden by halsey)
> 
> josh goes to gay bars #confirmed  
> alex gaskarth is there for about .2 seconds bc i needed an emo for plot purpose

tyler doesn’t drink.

he hasn’t really done any drinking (aside from a few celebratory beers here or there) since his senior year of high school, when he drank too much at one of brendon’s lame parties and ended up throwing up all over the lap of an unfortunately really pretty guy he didn’t know.

not surprisingly, getting drunk is always brendon’s idea, because he thinks the only way to have fun in life is to get so intoxicated that he can’t even stand; tyler vehemently disagrees, constantly telling him that there’s more to life than getting drunk or stoned. it’s like talking to a brick wall, because brendon scoffs and tells him to “stop being such a prude” or to “loosen up and have some fun”.

he’s not a prude and he has plenty of fun sitting alone in his dorm and eating shitty dollar store ramen. he just doesn’t want to have another incident like the last, and the idea of drinking has never appealed to him.

he rarely goes out anywhere with brendon, because the idea of going to a club and being surrounded by touchy-feely college students who have no concept of the word ‘no’ while brendon grinds with anything that has two legs makes him physically ill.

even though he doesn’t go out, he’s always the one to get phone calls at two a.m. from brendon, asking for a ride back to their dorm.

no matter how many times it happens, tyler always stops whatever he’s doing (most likely binge watching netflix and studying for his next exam) and goes to get him. he’s not an asshole, and he’s certainly not about to abandon brendon when he’s drunk off his ass and has no coherent idea where he is. a lot of things could happen to him, out in the big wide world, and tyler doesn’t want that sort of regret on his hands for the rest of his life.

it’s brendon’s idea, once again, that going and getting smashed drunk is the best way to get tyler out of the house to ‘have a little fun’. he’s been laying in the same position on his bed for the past week, following his break-up with his girlfriend; he’d said it was mutual, but it wasn’t in the slightest and now all he can feel is an empty ache in his chest.

“tyler, get up, we’re leaving in fifteen,” brendon’s saying, standing at the foot of his bed with arms crossed over his chest.

tyler doesn’t budge from underneath his safety shelter of blankets and pillows.

when brendon continues to stand there, staring him down, he’s forced to say something to make him _leave_.

“i don’t feel like going out,” tyler groans, muffled by the mountain of pillows he has his face shoved against.

“you never feel like going out,” brendon shoots right back, and he’s absolutely right, but tyler doesn’t move. “get up and get dressed. you can’t lay in bed forever.”

“ _brendon_ ,” he drawls, lifting his head up enough to see him sifting through their shared closet. “get out of here.”

no response aside from more hangers sliding across the bar. brendon makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, yanking down something and throwing them at tyler while saying, “wear these.”

tyler flops around, pulling himself out of his blankets. he turns over the black skinny jeans brendon had thrown at him in his hands half-heartedly, looking over them emptily. “why?”

“they make your ass look good,” brendon deadpans in turn, turning back to the closet.

“you’ve been staring at my ass?”

“who hasn’t?”

he frowns. did he have a nice ass? he twists around to look at himself to the best of his ability, momentarily startled when something else is thrown at him. a simple white button-up is now laid on top of his jeans, and brendon is grinning at him proudly, hands on his hips.

“meet me outside in ten,” he declares before turning and leaving the dorm, slamming the door behind him.

tyler debates crawling back into bed to continue his dramatics for the next three hours, but eventually wiggles his way out of bed and shrugs out of his shirt, followed by his sweats. he pulls on the button-up and tugs up the skinny jeans with a bit of difficulty, slipping on his floral vans and glancing at himself in the mirror.

as an afterthought, he combs his fingers through his hair. it barely even looks like he’s been laying in bed aimlessly for a week straight, and that’s good enough for him.

he steps out of the dorm and into the crisp night air, locking the door behind him and pocketing his key.

“look at _you_ , baby!” brendon cheers, eyeing tyler sleazily with a cigarette held between two fingers. he blows him a kiss, dropping a wink, and tyler merely glares at him in faux disgust. “i’m glad you’re out of bed.”

wrinkling his nose, tyler dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “can we go and get this over with?”

“honey, you’ll never get laid with that attitude,” brendon sighs, tipping his cigarette toward him. he immediately brightens up into a smile, gesturing to the car. “shall we?”

“i don’t want to get laid,” he scoffs, opening up the passenger’s side door. “i want to get drunk.”

“that’s how you get laid.”

“unlike _you_ , i have standards,” tyler mutters under his breath, sliding into the seat.

unfortunately, he forgets sometimes that brendon probably has the best hearing on the earth. he gasps dramatically, falling into his seat with a pout fixed on his face. it dissipates almost instantly as he stubs out his cigarette and throws the roach out the window, turning to him with a sharp-toothed grin. “oh, feisty ty, i love it. it’s a good look for you.”

tyler flips him off, settling back into his seat. “where are we going?”

“oh, this place downtown,” brendon replies vaguely, shrugging as he backs up out of the parking lot.

“that doesn’t answer the question.”

“it’s a nice bar, ty, loosen up.”

for the next five minutes, tyler continues to pester about where they’re heading, but brendon refuses to give anything up, merely turning up the radio and shouting lyrics at the top of his lungs.

“we’re _here_ ,” brendon crows as he pulls his car into a parking lot, shooting tyler a sharp glare that plainly says ‘you can shut the fuck up now’.

tyler frowns, looking at the building through the windshield; it’s relatively small, well-kept and clean looking from the outside. normal, for the most part. at least, he thinks so, until he sees two guys walk out of the door, basically dry-humping each other in the middle of the fucking sidewalk.

“brendon,” tyler starts, narrowing his eyes at the bar as a cold feeling of dread sinks in his stomach. “what is this?”

“well.” a brief pause as brendon shuts down the car’s engine, avoiding tyler’s eyes. then, in a quiet voice, “not a gay bar.”

“did you _seriously_ just drive me to a gay bar?” he whispers angrily, taking every bit of self control he has not to scream at him.

“okay, it might be a gay bar,” brendon admits, shrugging. tyler hates him.

“brendon, i’m _not_ gay.”

“tyler, neither am i,” he taps his nose. “bisexuality is a thing.”

“bren –“

“hush. you said you weren’t here to get laid. i am. go get drunk and be sad while i have fun.”

tyler clamps his mouth shut. he needs better friends. brendon flashes him a million watt smile, popping open his door. “it won’t kill you to dance.”

and, well, he does have a point there. he uncrosses his arms with a resigned sigh and pushes open his door, ignoring brendon’s obnoxious cheer and eyeing the building apprehensively once more.

brendon tugs on his elbow, stage-whispering, “door’s this way, ty.”

tyler glares, but he follows in his footsteps. he swings the door to the bar open, and the scent of cigarettes and sweat mingled with sex hits his nostrils instantly; he wrinkles his nose out of distaste, watching as brendon breathes in deep, a wild light shining in his eyes.

toward the middle of the room, next to a brightly-lit dance floor swarming with dancing bodies, is the bar. brendon heads there immediately, plopping down into a barstool and gesturing for tyler to sit next to him when he lags behind a little, uncertain.

the bartender approaches them when they’re seated, average and skinny with disheveled brown hair and soft hazel eyes with a certain sort of twinkle that makes tyler’s stomach feel a little fuzzy.

“what’re you having, honey?” he says with a voice like velvet, smiling all warm and sweet, and tyler grins back in spite of himself. he could probably get used to that, if he’s honest. a small, nagging voice in the back of his head kindly reminds him that he’s _not gay_.

brendon leans toward tyler, oblivious to his spur of the moment sexuality crisis. he eyes the bartender in a way that seems almost predatory as he puts on his best smile and orders them a round of patrón.

“special occasion?” the bartender asks conversationally as he pulls down two shot glasses and a rounded bottle from the top shelf, blinking softly at brendon. tyler’s not gay but god, he’s a good-looking guy. a straight man can admit that, right? right.

“he broke up with his girlfriend,” he replies, tilting his head toward tyler and smiling flirtatiously. tyler feels bad for the poor guy, having to deal with brendon’s antics when he’s just trying to do his job.

“sorry to hear it. we don’t see many straight guys at gay bars.” two shot glasses are placed in front of them, and the bartender grins easily, ignoring tyler’s obvious discomfort at being called out. “enjoy.”

“i want to go home,” tyler mumbles over the bass thundering in his ears, squinting accusingly at his glass.

“have a couple shots,” brendon shrugs, tossing his back and downing his shot. not even so much as a grimace. he gestures to tyler’s, quirking an eyebrow.

“i hate tequila,” tyler groans emptily, but he still tosses his back and slams his stupid glass back on the bar counter. his throat burns and he coughs uneasily, glaring at brendon. “satisfied?”

“so satisfied i could kiss you,” brendon grins, waving over the bartender before leaning in and puckering his lips. “what d’you say, baby?”

tyler shoves his face away, momentarily distraught by even the idea. brendon laughs, throwing an arm around his shoulder and smacking a disgustingly wet kiss to his cheek.

“i’m not gay,” tyler chides for what feels like the millionth time, just as the bartender approaches.

he chuckles softly, leaning up against the bar and smiling at brendon. “another?”

two shots turn into three which turn into four which turn into five, and at five, tyler loses track. all he registers is the blurry sounds of music and the feel of the bass in his veins, reverberating through his chest, brendon’s hand gripping too tight at his thigh as he laughs about nothing in particular.

“ _saaaay_ , tyle _eer_ ,” brendon mumbles next to his ear, breath reeking of alcohol. he’s got a wide, shark-like grin affixed to his face as his hand brushes up and down tyler’s thigh; tyler looks down at his hand curiously, swaying slightly in his seat before leaning up against his chest. “wanna go – wanna dance?”

tyler thinks about it for a second, looking around at the crowded dance floor through blurry eyes. “nah,” he mumbles, pushing brendon’s hand away from his thigh and leaning heavily against the counter. “don’t think jenna would like it.”

“jenna isn’t _here_ ,” brendon pouts, surveying the multitudes of bodies before finding something that catches his eyes. a tall, lanky sort of guy swaying with some random dude, laughing at something and showing off a row of perfect, shining white teeth. he stumbles his way out of the barstool, already heading toward the new point of interest when he calls over his shoulder, “’bye, ty.”

“’bye,” tyler tells the counter. the bartender moves over to him, eyeing the top of his head curiously as he polishes a shot glass.

“where’d your friend go?” he asks, watching as tyler lazily tilts his head to him.

“dancing,” tyler mumbles, looking over the other thoughtfully. “y’know, i’m straight, but you’re cute. for a guy. i think.”

it’s by far one of the most interesting compliments of the night. he huffs out a laugh, putting down the glass and leaning against the counter, cupping his chin in his palm. “thank you,” he muses. “and i’m beginning to think you aren’t as straight as you think you are, honey.”

tyler sighs simply, half-shrugging his shoulders noncommittally. “i’ve gotta girlfriend.”

“last i heard, you broke up with her. at least, that’s what your friend says.”

it takes a second to sink in, and for his slow mind to catch up to current time. “oh,” he pauses, furrowing his eyebrows. “that’s right. jenna.”

“why’d you break up with her? if you don’t mind my asking.”

“i like you,” tyler grins cheekily all of the sudden, seemingly forgetting jenna, fluffing up his hair absently and blinking big doe eyes up at him. “you remind me of a puppy.”

he raises an eyebrow, laughing softly once more. “thank you. i like you, too. my name’s ryan.”

“ryan,” he repeats, and he decides that he likes the way that his name rolls off his tongue. “tyler. my name’s tyler. tyler joseph. robert. tyler robert?” his tone lilts up questioningly before he shrugs it off, shaking his head lazily.

“say, tyler,” ryan says, poking a finger to his left. “that guy’s been looking at you for the past five minutes. i’m gonna leave you alone for a minute. have fun.”

“don’t leave,” tyler mutters, almost missing the wink ryan tips him. was he flirting with him? don’t get him wrong, ryan was cute, but he wasn’t gay. at least, he didn’t think he was.

another body shuffles next to his, and he thinks it might be brendon. he raises his head carefully, blinking owlishly up at the new person; not brendon. he’s taller than most of the people around them, angular-faced and grinning softly at tyler with eyes the color of melted chocolate. he’s pretty. wait, not pretty. tyler’s not gay.

“mind if i sit down?” he asks, and tyler doesn’t.

“no,” he responds honestly, turning fully to him and taking him all in. “i’m tyler.”

“alex,” he grins easily, sticking a hand out. tyler glances at it emptily for a second before remembering that he’s supposed to shake it; he takes it daintily, listening to alex laugh. he likes his laugh. “can i buy you a drink?”

he’s about to accept when ryan snakes his way into the conversation, raising an eyebrow at alex. “he’s at his cut off,” he explains, smiling at tyler when he waves at him. “but i’ll put all his drinks on the house if you take him home. i think he needs it.”

alex laughs, glancing at tyler. he’s still looking dopily up at ryan, and it wouldn’t surprise any of them if he started drooling. “looks like he’s into you,” he murmurs, and tyler looks surprised that he’s still sitting there when he turns to face him. “i’m gonna go dance. nice meeting you, tyler.”

he slides out of the stool, and tyler goes right back to staring at ryan, grinning up at him like he’s the only thing in the world. “are you sure you’re straight?” ryan asks, a lilting, teasing smile curling on his face. tyler sort of wants to kiss him. he leans up in the stool, tilting his chin up toward ryan and blinking at him expectantly.

“ah, i can’t kiss my customers,” ryan sighs as tyler grows closer, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him down into his seat. it’s obviously not the first time that’s happened, then, but tyler doesn’t blame himself for trying.

“tyler,” someone familiar-sounding calls his name, and he turns in mild surprise, catching brendon’s gaze. there’s someone with wild brown hair attached to his side, murmuring in his ear, grazing the lobe with his teeth. “i’m – _ah_ – leaving. be home tomorrow.”

with that, he grips the man’s hand and tugs him toward the door. tyler looks after them for half a second until they disappear outside, momentarily confused when he turns back to the bar.

ryan is looking back at him with wide eyes. tyler likes his eyes. he grins at him, mostly oblivious to the situation.

“did he leave you here?” he asks, continuing to ramble even though tyler says nothing. “damn it. do you have a ride home?” he swears under his breath when tyler shakes his head. “i’ll give you a ride after my shift, okay? make sure you get home safe.”

a car ride with a cute boy doesn’t sound too bad, honestly. tyler grins stupidly, nodding eagerly at the prospect. “you can come home with me,” he offers, batting his eyelashes at him. ryan chuckles, eyes sparkling.

“tempting, but i have work tomorrow,” he says easily, and it’s probably a lie, but tyler doesn’t mind all that much. it’s just another excuse to come back and see him again. he’s not gay. he can appreciate a pretty face every once in a while, that’s all.

ryan drags his gaze from tyler’s face, looking behind his head as another person approaches the bar. “ _josh_! hey, how are you?” his voice is filled with recognition as someone slides into the unoccupied barstool to the right of tyler.

“hey, ryan,” the new man says in return, and tyler likes his voice. it’s lilting and pretty; he turns his head to this ‘josh’ and gets an eyeful of red hair and a bright, perfectly straight, white smile. josh is looking at him, too, glancing him over once or twice.

he’s pretty. fuck it, scratch that, he’s really good-looking and tyler’s jeans are way too uncomfortably tight. is it hot in here?

“hi,” josh says, folding his arms over the counter and smirking at tyler, giving him all of his attention. “i’m josh.”

all of the breath he has in his lungs catches awkwardly in tyler’s throat. he clears it, once, blinking huge eyes at josh. _not gay, not gay, not gay_. “tyler,” he finally responds, leaning in and crossing his legs habitually.

“i’m glad you’re here,” ryan breaks into their moment, glancing between them both with a knowing glint to his eyes. josh turns to him, reluctant to pull his eyes away from the pretty boy at his side for even a second; tyler just continues to stare at the side of his face, momentarily stunned by his beauty. “can i ask you a favor?”

josh nods, eyes traveling back to tyler, seemingly unwilling to keep his gaze off of him.

“his friend ditched him here, and i was gonna give him a ride after my shift,” ryan explains, furrowing his eyebrows. josh nods to show that he heard, but his eyes remain locked on tyler’s. “do you think you can give him a ride home now?”

josh’s tongue flickers out, wetting his lips. tyler tracks the movement hungrily, can’t stop the thought that bubbles up in his mind about what the inside of his mouth tastes like. the corner of josh’s lip quirks up in a smile. “yeah, i can,” he agrees, leaning in just slightly toward him. “where do you live?”

“on campus,” tyler replies, heart thumping erratically. he wants to kiss him, wants to suck bruises into his skin and hear what he sounds like when he moans. he doesn’t even bother cutting off his thoughts; he’s not gay, he’s pretty sure, but maybe there’s exceptions for boys like the one in front of him.

“you’re lucky that’s on my way home,” josh sighs, lowering his voice and resting a hand on tyler’s thigh. his skin twitches and burns underneath his touch, and his dick is straining against the zipper of his too-tight jeans. he’s hard, he realizes belatedly, almost in surprise. “you wanna go now?”

his throat feels like sandpaper when he swallows, lungs burning with fire. he’s so hard his heart might burst, and josh leisurely rubbing circles into his thigh isn’t helping anything. he nods, twice, quick and erratic, and josh grins wide at him. “i’ll get him home, ryan,” he mumbles, barely lifting his eyes from tyler’s lips.

“have fun. don’t hurt him,” ryan reminds softly, smiling at josh as he eases tyler from his seat and links their fingers together loosely.

“no promises,” he calls over his shoulder, gently pulling tyler along toward the exit. he stumbles, giggling delightedly at the feeling of josh’s hand pressing against his. there’s still quite a number of cars in the parking lot; josh tugs him toward a black one near the back and opens the passenger’s side door for him, winking at tyler when he looks up at him near-adoringly. his cock jolts in his jeans and he sighs begrudgingly, wanting someone’s hands on him. preferably josh’s, all over him, on his chest and thighs and back and dick.

his thoughts are interrupted by josh sliding into the driver’s seat, pressing the key into the ignition. the car rumbles to life with a steady purr and without even thinking, tyler slides a hand between his thighs and palms himself gently, trying to stave off the edge of his desperation.

josh’s eyes flicker from the road to tyler when a small whine slips past his lips. he’s barely surprised to see his hand pressed against himself, gently rolling his palm and biting his lip; he rolls his eyes and reaches a hand out, easing it over tyler’s knee. “you okay?” he mumbles, swallowing a snicker when tyler lets out a high-pitched whine as josh rolls his thumb up his thigh.

“mhm,” tyler says instantly, yanking his hand away from himself and pressing his feet into the floorboards. just five minutes. he can cope. he’ll be fine.

he focuses on anything but his dick and josh next to him, his hand still rubbing over his knee lightly. by the time they pull into the parking lot, tyler’s so hard he’s afraid he’s not going to be able to stand; he inhales shakily as he undoes his seatbelt. “thanks for the ride,” he mumbles, almost scared at the prospect that he’ll never see josh again.

“i’ll walk you to your door,” josh offers, undoing his own seatbelt and popping open his door. tyler almost screams in relief, thinks he might have a chance to get josh into his room and onto his bed as he steps outside into the night air and blearily stumbles his way up to his dorm.

he fumbles his keys out of his pocket, nearly dropping them; josh steadies him with a hand on his lower back, and his skin jumps under his touch, burning like electricity. by some act of grace, he’s able to unlock his door and slide it open, toeing off his vans before turning to face josh.

there’s no harm in trying. he really doesn’t want to see him go; there’s too much he wants to hear, too much he wants to taste, too much he wants to see. swallowing, he puts on as tempting a smile as he can, leaning against the doorframe and jutting his hip out.

“you wanna come inside?” he sighs, brushing a stray hair behind his ear and smiling at josh prettily, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to be seductive. “my roommate’s out for the night.”

there’s a suggestive undertone in his voice, josh can tell, coupled further by the flutter of long, thick eyelashes over cheeks dusted pink. tyler shifts, reaching out to touch his bicep and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “i’ll make it worth your while,” he practically purrs at the lack of response, quirking up an eyebrow and blinking his wide, dark eyes up at him.

josh knows he should refuse, because he has class early in the morning and he’s going to have a hard time getting out of bed with tyler next to him. against his own will, he takes another look at tyler, nervously crossing and uncrossing slim thighs over the other in an attempt to get some sort of friction over the obvious bulge in his too-tight jeans, and decides that going to class isn’t nearly as appealing as getting tyler to scream his name.

he grins crookedly, leaning further into tyler’s space and pressing a hand to his waist. “what’s in it for me?” he murmurs, even though they both know what he’s after. he just likes the way tyler squirms underneath his hot breath fanning over his face, the tiny moan he bites back as he tries slyly to inch back into the dorm, stopped by josh’s hand wrapped firm around his hip.

tyler whimpers, eyelashes fluttering and nails cutting into the flesh of josh’s bicep. his gaze trails lower, to watch as tyler swallows and his adam’s apple bobs underneath his pale skin, and he wants to know what he tastes like when he’s writhing underneath josh’s mouth. “you get to fuck me,” he simpers, poking out his bottom lip in a pout.

the pit of josh’s stomach fills with fire, heat twisting through his gut. he licks his lips hurriedly, meeting tyler’s darkening gaze; he’s smirking confidently, knowing he has josh wrapped around his finger.

just to toy with him further, josh pulls back, releasing his hip and shrugging indifferently. “tempting, darling, but i have class in the morning,” he sighs, feigning a dull sort of disinterest despite his cock jumping in his jeans. “maybe i’ll take your offer up later.”

tyler’s jaw drops, eyes widening in surprise. he’s _never_ been rejected before, by any girl, certainly not when he was this close.

“ _wait_ ,” he immediately spits out, incredulously grabbing at josh’s wrist and tugging him back towards him. “you can’t just _leave_ me.”

josh raises an eyebrow, watches the alarm flash through tyler’s eyes at the thought of being left. “and who said that, sugar?” he growls, setting his jaw and cupping tyler’s face in his hands, thumb digging roughly into his cheek.

he realizes his mistake, swallowing thickly and biting his lip. “please don’t go,” he whimpers, throat working as he blinks pleadingly, apologetically up at josh. “i’m sorry. i just need you real, _real_ bad.” his words are punctuated by a low, soft whine as his thighs press together, knees quivering.

“you’re such a slut,” josh spits lowly, smirking when tyler whines, chin digging sharply into the palm of his hand. “aren’t you?”

tyler nods eagerly, eyes wide and unabashed, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he pants. “god, yes, i’m a slut,” he mumbles softly, rocking his hips forward in search of friction and ultimately finding nothing.

biting his lip, josh palms himself through his jeans and takes another good, longing look at the boy in front of him. his face is flushed red, trickles of sweat beading at his hairline, bottom lip marked with the imprint of his teeth. his cheekbones look sharp enough to cut glass, and josh wants _desperately_ to know what they would look like striped with his come. he rolls his hips up into his hand, exhaling breathily.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” josh says simply, tone void of emotion. he pushes tyler away from him and grins when he stumbles over his own feet, almost twitching with the need to be touched, waiting expectantly for direction. he takes his time closing the door behind them, flicking the lock and mumbling over his shoulder, “don’t just stand there. strip.”

tyler scrambles to obey, tearing his shirt over his head hastily and dumping it on the floor, shaking fingers moving to undo the button on his jeans. josh watches through heavily lidded eyes, slowly approaching as tyler slips his thumbs underneath his waistband. “wait,” he speaks up, and tyler’s hands freeze, eyes snapping up to meet josh’s. “let me do that.”

wrists quaking, he complies, blinking dazedly at josh as he bends to his knees and hooks his own fingers underneath his jeans. he tugs them down slowly, head tilted back to look up at him, smiling lazily at the hitch in tyler’s breath when he receives a small amount of friction from his jeans dragging across his cock. “please,” he whimpers dejectedly, jeans pooling around his ankles.

josh’s gaze hardens, smirk slowly disappearing from his face. “be quiet,” he growls, nipping at tyler’s thigh with sharp teeth, feeling his skin jump in response. “or i won’t touch you. got it?”

his heart leaps up into his throat, and he nods timidly, itching to twine his fingers through josh’s hair. he doesn’t dare, however, not when josh leans his head against his bare thigh and smiles approvingly.

“that’s a good boy,” he compliments huskily, and tyler shakily inhales, eyes sliding closed at the praise. “and good boys get rewarded.”

tyler’s eyes instinctively widen at the thought of being rewarded, gut twisting up in anticipation; hands slide around the backs of his thighs, soft palms and stocky, long fingers with hard calluses pressing into his skin. he must play some kind of instrument, and tyler makes a mental note to ask about it later when lips push up against the front of his clothed cock.

he gasps, chin tilting up toward the ceiling, hands clenching into fists at his sides. josh hums, dragging his mouth up the outline of his dick and blowing hot air through the fabric of his boxers. it takes every bit of willpower in tyler’s hazy mind to swallow down a low whimper, biting roughly at his tongue to distract himself from the feeling of josh mouthing around him, slow and sweet. even that’s easier said than done; against all of his thoughts telling him otherwise, he moves his chin down toward his chest and looks down at josh.

his eyes are wide and unblinking, burning with lust, pink lips parted just enough for tyler to be able to see straight white teeth glinting at him. he wants to tell josh how good he looks down there, maybe urge him to hurry up and actually suck him off, but he forces his mouth shut, bites his bottom lip and swallows down a moan.

josh moans softly over tyler’s dick, the vibration rolling over his skin in waves and settling deep in his veins, and he hurriedly gulps down air to avoid moaning. at the same moment, josh pulls back enough to slide tyler’s boxers down to his ankles, and tyler desperately has to choke back a dejected whine at no longer being touched, trying to calm his quaking nerves just slightly before josh is moving back in.

he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to tyler’s inner thigh, not nearly close enough to where he wants his lips. “on the bed,” he whispers against his skin, eyelashes fluttering when he raises his eyes to meet tyler’s, full of purpose. if he spent enough time looking deep enough, tyler could probably see everything that josh wants to do to him play in his eyes, and the thought makes him swallow harshly.

but, he doesn’t have to be told twice. with disappointment swimming languidly through his thoughts, he moves away from josh and stumbles away. he lays back in the middle of his bed among the sheets, spreading out his thighs and all but presenting himself.

josh pushes himself up off the floor and stretches out his legs, tugging off his shirt and undoing his jeans, stepping out of them to abandon them on the floor. he casually slides off his boxers to join the mess of clothes, and tyler stares unabashed at his body; toned, firm muscles moving underneath pale skin as he steps closer, eyes hooded and dark as his gaze crawls leisurely over tyler’s quivering body.

and _fuck_ , tyler is beautiful. his chest is flushed red, rising and falling slowly as he breathes, red lips parted, bitten and slick with his own spit. he presses his thighs together self-consciously as josh keeps looking at him, accidentally letting out a high whine at the friction he gets.

josh decides to forgive the slip up, raising an eyebrow in reminder as he climbs up onto the bed and slips his hands up tyler’s thighs. his cock twitches with interest, tip beginning to bead with pre-come. he doesn’t touch his dick, no matter how much tyler _needs_ him to, just smirks up at him and hovers over his lean frame.

“you can talk now,” josh murmurs, sliding his hands up his thighs and curling his fingers around his hips, nails biting sharply into his skin. “tell me what you want.”

he lets out a relieved, shaking sigh. “oh, god,” he mumbles, blinking hopefully up at josh through lidded, fluttering eyes. “touch me, _please_ , touch me.”

crookedly smiling, thumbs pressing into his hips hard enough to bruise, josh tsks and dips his head so their foreheads are pressing together. “tell me how you wanna be touched.”

with a whimper, tyler raises his hands and grips at josh’s wrists, pressing his chin up. his lips, swollen from the amount of times he’s raked his teeth over them, are practically begging to be kissed, but josh pushes away the temptation until he hears his voice, shaky and uncertain. “please,” tyler begins, running his fingers up and down his forearms. “want you to wrap a hand around my cock, want you to fuck me until i can’t breathe –“

he gasps, suddenly, cutting off his begging and jolting as josh reaches between their hips and grasps his cock, feeling it twitch in his palm. he plants a soft kiss to the corner of tyler’s mouth, slowly twisting his hand around the head and slicking up his hand with the pre-come beaded there, smiling against his skin when he moans.

josh takes his time, tugging his hand up and down with a barely-there pressure that has tyler begging for more, weakly thrusting up into his palm. he unwraps his fingers from where they’re clutching at the sheet and winds his arms around josh’s shoulders, scratching and digging marks into his freckled back; josh slides their lips together, swallowing down tyler’s airy moans, tightening his hand just so and dragging up to the tip.

“josh,” tyler whimpers, sloppily thrusting up into his hand, back arching up off the bed. he doesn’t have any reason to say his name other than out of instinct; josh pulls away slightly, finalizing his movements with a quick peck to tyler’s quivering, swollen lips while he swipes his thumb over his slit.

pre-come drips over josh’s knuckles and onto tyler’s belly; josh brings his free hand and drags a finger through the mess casually, pressing it up to tyler’s lips. his mouth falls open pliantly, sucking josh’s finger into his mouth and dragging his tongue around the length of it, humming slightly.

“good boy,” josh mumbles, swiping his spit-slick index over tyler’s bottom lip and admiring the way he gasps when he twists the hand wrapped around his cock. he pushes his free hand into the pillow by tyler’s head, shifting his weight and pressing their lips together, sucking the tip of tyler’s tongue past his lips.

tyler keens, sighing into josh’s mouth and breaking their kiss to gasp for air; josh simply nudges his head to the side and licks a thick stripe up the side of his throat, kissing the spot at the bend of his jaw before beginning to suck a bruise. he builds a soft, gentle rhythm with his hand around tyler’s dick, dropping down to the base and tugging up to twist his hand around the head; it’s too slow and there’s not nearly enough friction, the feeling of skin on skin dulled by the amount of pre-come smeared down his cock.

“more,” tyler mumbles, shyly nosing through josh’s fire engine hair and sighing softly when his fingers tighten their hold ever so slightly. “please. wanna come.”

josh makes a gruff noise in the back of his throat, detaching his lips from tyler’s skin and pressing kisses across his jaw. he shushes tyler, a soft noise, and continues his agonizingly slow rhythm. “you get what you get,” he says, voice low as he grinds his own hips against the mattress. he pulls a few more feather-light strokes, thumbing over his slit once more before tugging his hand away and wiping it off on the sheets.

almost out of instinct, as he begins to suck a bruise into tyler’s collarbone, he reaches for the nightstand drawer and shuffles around blindly. he finds something vaguely bottle-shaped and yanks it out, tossing it on the bed next to tyler’s thigh and continuing to search for condoms.

a foil packet crinkles under his hand, and he grips it between his index and thumb, tossing it next to the lube. he licks over the newest bite on tyler’s throat and raises his eyes up to his slowly, raising a hand to wind through his hair.

“you’re a tease,” tyler mumbles, voice hoarse, but the corner of his lip is quirked up.

“you like it,” josh replies, and tyler really fucking does.

he abandons the hand in tyler’s hair to grab for the lube; he pops the cap, generously slicking up his index before settling back down between his thighs. he kisses the red flush spread over the top of his chest and up his neck, nudging his thigh open a little more and pressing the tip against his hole.

slowly, he presses past the ring of muscle, dragging his teeth over tyler’s collarbone as a distraction. he makes high-pitched keening noises as josh sinks the first finger in, both of his hands moving to twine through his hair and tug slightly; taking care, josh waits for a second, allowing time for adjustment before slowly beginning to rock into him.

a breathy sigh slips past tyler’s lips, hips rolling down to meet josh’s finger as he gets used to the slow, unusual burn spreading up through his bones; a slow three minutes pass (not that josh is counting, or anything), the air filled with tyler’s high whines and pretty moans before josh slides in a second, followed by a third.

by four, there are tears beaded at the corner of tyler’s eyes; he’s half-choking out sobs as he rocks his hips down to meet josh’s torturously slow rhythm, eyes cinched closed, fingers twisted in the sheets. he doesn’t dare ask for more in case josh decides to stop entirely, leaving him unsatisfied and unbearably hard.

fortunately, he doesn’t get much time to ponder over the thoughts of not finishing, because josh is leaving little kitten licks up the inside of his thigh, nipping with sharp teeth; his pale skin blooms with red color underneath his mouth and he exhales softly against his skin, biting back a smile.

tyler gets no warning as josh pulls his fingers out and wipes them hastily on the sheets; he whines dejectedly at the sudden emptiness, the sound immediately cut short as josh swats his thigh and whispers, “hush.”

he bites at his swollen lip as josh crawls up the length of his body, stroking languidly up his chest. a slow smile spreads across josh’s lips as he nudges his thighs apart with his knee and slides between them; he instinctively hooks them up around josh’s waist, ankles pressing against the small of his back.

“you should pull my hair,” josh mumbles breathily, tugging at one of tyler’s wrists and leading his hand up to his hair. his fingers twine around the curls and he pulls experimentally, softly, laughing when josh groans lowly.

he dips his head to bite at tyler’s throat once before pulling back, grabbing the condom from where it’s almost fallen off the edge of the bed and ripping it open in one move. he slides it down his length with ease and picks up the lube bottle, squeezing a good amount into his palm and gently slicking himself up.

josh slips between his thighs again, and tyler’s legs wrap around his hips once more, tilting his chin up and blinking expectantly up at him. he slides a hand through josh’s hair, absently scratching at his scalp as he lines himself up with one hand, anchoring himself at tyler’s hip with the other.

“ready?” josh asks, voice rough, eyes flickering up to meet tyler’s for a brief moment.

tyler hums softly, heels digging into josh’s back as he attempts to press him closer. josh presses their foreheads together before pushing himself in, careful half-inches at a time; he holds his breath and tyler gasps out, pain spreading through him in a delicious, slow fire. it _hurts_ , but it’s so good at the same time, and his mind can’t differentiate between pain and pleasure.

he lets out a high whine as josh’s hips press up against him and he bottoms out with a breathless gasp. for a moment, they lay like that, connected and sated, as josh aligns himself with the world; then, he gently begins to rock his hips, taking every bit of willpower he has in himself to avoid slamming right into tyler without warning.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he mumbles eloquently, and it’s so cliché that tyler lets out a tiny sort of giggle, wriggling his hips experimentally and panting softly.

“please move,” he eventually whimpers, desperate, and josh rests his lips on his forehead and pulls nearly all of the way out, picking up speed when he thrusts back in.

he begins a steady, unforgiving rhythm in the way he rolls his hips and makes tyler feel like nothing more than a pile of useless limbs; he tries to choke back the noise, just for the sake of his dorm neighbors, but josh hits a spot inside him he had no idea he had and he nearly screams.

“there we go,” josh grunts, shifting around and thrusting in harder. “c’mon, baby, let me hear you.”

tyler whimpers, allowing himself to be fucked ruthlessly; the sound of the headboard hitting the wall echoes distantly through the room, his thighs hitching higher up josh’s waist, hands tightening in his hair.

he barely registers anything except for his own moans and josh’s gasping and panting; he snakes a hand between their waists, grasping blindly at his aching cock and pumping himself. it’s slick and wet and hot, and he drags his hand up and down as fast as possible, grinding down against josh before he’s coming with a shout. he’s never shouted anyone’s name during sex, so it’s a first for him when his eyes explode with white light and he’s crying out josh’s name like it’s a prayer.

he’s overcome with unbearable pleasure, and by the time he’s just begun to come down, josh is biting into his shoulder to stifle the nearly-agonized moan he lets out as his hips slowly come to a standstill buried inside tyler.

he comes for what feels like years; he unlatches his teeth from tyler’s shoulder, dragging his tongue over the new wound and tasting the bitter sting of blood. nice.

tyler’s gasping when he lifts his head up and their eyes meet. his hand is still wrapped around his dick and their chests and hips are both coated in sticky strings of pearl-white come; he sighs, undeniably sated, as he pulls out. tyler makes a high, sweet noise as they detach from each other. josh swallows down his own groan and gently takes the condom off of his overworked cock, tying it and dropping it onto the floor.

vaguely, tyler knows he should get a towel from the bathroom, but he’s never been this exhausted in his entire life. his limbs feel like lead and his head is spinning with the onslaught of an unforgiving hangover; josh rolls his shoulders and flops down next to his side, throwing an arm around his waist.

“i’m staying,” he mumbles into the skin of tyler’s neck, tangling their legs together.

“yes,” tyler agrees gladly, eyes fluttering shut as he wraps an arm around josh’s neck and noses through his sweat-damp hair. he might be a little gay, after tonight, and hopefully for the next few nights afterwards. “please.”

later in the night, when tyler’s emptying his stomach’s contents into the toilet bowl, josh casually brushes his hair away from his forehead and hands him a glass of water, rubbing his shoulder gently. they go back to bed and they fuck lazily in the morning before brendon comes home, most likely stoned to get over his hangover, and brendon gleefully points out that tyler is ‘most definitely, at least a little bit, super gay’.

and he really is.

 


End file.
